The Ploys of a Personal Assistant
by daisherz365
Summary: Anthea has a particular skill set that is reserved for getting the really hard targets to give them the information that they need. Mycroft continues to try to give her a little extra incentive afterwards as a way of showing his appreciation, this Christmas there is particular shift in power to the benefit of both of them. A part of the Mythea Christmas Exchange/Fan Swap


THE PLOYS OF A PERSONAL ASSISSTANT

A part of _Blood-Sucker-1428/tragicvampire (tumblr)_ 's Mythea Christmas Exchange/Fan Swap

 **Anthea has a particular skill set that is reserved for getting the really hard targets to give them the information that they need. Mycroft continues to try to give her a little extra incentive afterwards as a way of showing his appreciation, this Christmas there is particular shift in power to the benefit of both of them.**

For **ovejalucifer** , I hope you like your gift!

For frame of reference: My dear friend channyfaith/sherlollysmooch(tumblr) and I were talking about ASiB and the bit where the woman who mentions that he (John) thinks it's Mycroft when it's Irene who isn't dead had me thinking that if that was Anthea (it's not apparently) that I headcanon her as bi, which is useful in her line of work during certain moments. Thus I came up with this.

It's a strong T. I hope that's okay!

much love,

day

###

Anthea could firmly say that her job had never gotten old. Out of nearly ten years since Mycroft Holmes had approached her about working for a secret part of the British Government there wasn't a time when she ever felt like she wasn't having fun in any aspect. Her favorite portion of her job was deceiving people into getting what her boss needed. It had always been fun to play the part. Even before she was employed under him – and eventually beside him as his partner in many aspects – she had known that dressing up was going to be a part of her life. Playing a role had always been quite amusing to her, and she was very good at it.

Mycroft had seen to not letting those talents of hers go to waste. She was hired as a personal assistant but she had become a much larger role in the grand scheme of the underground underbelly of London, and the entire network of England. It was so interesting to think in a way she had become like one of Sherlock's little informants but not very often crossing paths that didn't involve taking him or his colleague John Watson somewhere for a meet up.

In a sense she was a better version of Irene Adler, though she had spent ample time with her during the time that she was in London trying to mess with both of the Holmes boys. She had been very useful in trying to play along as she granted her intel all the while taking advantage of her body when they were alone. It was something of a win on both sides if the smirk on The Woman's face had anything to go by. Whereas Anthea felt only half satisfied. She had to keep her brain focused all the while pleasing a woman who could only bring harm to her boss and his little brother.

That was many moons ago now of course.

Today the night before Christmas – a typically joyous holiday beyond the telly – Anthea was still working her butt off while everyone was with their families. It helped that she was all alone minus her few friends that she had collected since coming into knowing the Holmes family. Molly Hooper especially had been rather kind to her when they met instead of casting suspicions of her motives like the man she was so clearly enamored over; to be fair it had helped the pathologist's case into getting somewhere with Anthea. The first thing she had said to her was a rather quick notation that "Oh, you're Mycroft's other half", she had known that she hadn't been implying it in the professional sense. However the girl hadn't been all that wrong. Mycroft and she had a very complex relationship that bordered on a romantic partnership on some nights when things were very hard to manage.

It certainly didn't help when she was in deep cover like this, wearing less than nothing and having to deal with sleazy and frankly completely horrid human beings in comparison to the man that she had admired since the moment he stepped in front of her path to deflect an incoming bullet with his umbrella that was nowhere near being a normal civilian form of keeping the rain or snow off your person.

At the time she merely tilted her head to the side and gave him a quick thanks, he had let it roll off of him as if that had been normal. She later found out that it was; it became her normal soon enough.

Tonight had been a particularly rough patch in her work days. She had been sitting on a man (literally) who had to be at least forty-five if not nearly fifty in his years and he had been resisting her usual ways of dealing with things. She had a Beretta stowed just under the pillow where his head lay just in case she needed to be more obvious about what she wanted. She really wasn't feeling up to it tonight. She wanted a strong drink and to know whatever gift Mycroft was going to try to hand her this year. She typically told him to send it back. Seeing his face had been a better comfort than any pair of shoes or jewelry he had ever gotten her. Although she did have the pocket watch that he had given her that was too precious for her to even think about handing back.

He had a look in his eyes when he had given it to her too as if he was entrusting her with it for a reason. She had understood of course. It wasn't something that he couldn't easily part with. Same went for her.

Anthea had already sent for him by the way of the agent disguised as a food service person in the swanky hotel that she had been practically caged in for over a week. She had hoped that she would be done with this by the time he arrived.

She had already calculated the distance and time that it would take if the traffic was bearable. She had about nine minutes left before he entered the room.

She let out a yawn, eliciting the man to sit up although he hadn't let go of her once. He liked the feel of her soft, younger and slender body against his fairly toned abs. He wasn't a bad looking man – Edward Sterling – an American with information on the latest terrorist threat that had been hitting several continents, luckily MI 6 had gotten news of the group nearing London before it could go south. Unfortunately lives had already been lost. It was one of the things Anthea hated.

"Getting tired of me?" He asked with a hopeful grin.

"No. Not in the slightest." She ran her fingers up his chest until she had her arms wrapped around his neck and could slip her fingers through his dye job of blonde hair. He had a strong jaw and a set of full lips that he had attempted to kiss her with several times. She wasn't a big fan of kissing sleazy assholes who she didn't care about in the slightest. There were only about three people who she had ever actively kissed and two happened to be women, the other was a special case of when he was stable enough to think that yes, kissing her was the best idea on the table at this point. She was thinking that her gift needed to be better than this year.

She was started to get distracted by the idea of being with him in this way. It was shifted her focus just a smidge. She could practically hear him berating her for not getting through this efficiently, ever the boss man and not enough of the caring man she had come to enjoying being with.

She heard the creak of the door, it was quiet enough that the man who was holding her in an ice grip didn't stop groping her.

She heard Mycroft sigh out of annoyance most likely. "She is however very late to another engagement so it would be in your best interest to give me what I need." She could hear the bored tone in his voice as she jerked the man's head back causing him to yelp in pain as she finished it with quick shove against the bed.

"I was wondering if you were going to show at all." She said quietly enough that he would hear it as she circled the bed without any thought that he was clearly watching her with interest as she reached for her gun before tucking it in the small holster at her ankle. It was fashioned to look like a normal piece of lingerie, it worked even better when she had her piece there. She ignored Mister Sterling cries of outrage that a man had interrupted his tryst with a very beautiful woman as she reached for the rouge satin robe that ended a few inches under her bum.

Upon slipping it on she turned to look at her boss while folding her arms, clearly tired. "Why don't you go have a drink, my dear? There's a small table tucked down the hall. I can finish this up."

She gave him a grin. "Don't break a sweat, I plan to do that on my own later." She whispered lowly as she pressed a peck at the corner of his mouth. He instinctively turned and caught her mouth, he was more animated than she was used to be that was perfect really. Perhaps she should not do her job more often.

"A morning round I should think." He breathed haggardly a few inches from her face, his nose nearly brushing against her temple. "You need rest, my dear."

She wasn't going to deny that he wasn't right.

They heard a scoff behind them. Anthea fixed his tie before leaving him to his work. The door shut with a resounding thud. Mycroft tossed his umbrella to the side, this was going to take the wind out of him. How trivial it was but he was relieved that Anthea was out of the ogres hands. He had been close to reacting, though she reminded him that she could get out of anything if given the choice.

###

Anthea smiled when she found her dear friend Molly Hooper waiting for her at the table that Mycroft had mentioned. She passed her a coat to cover herself with raised eye brows. She had finally gotten her answer whether or not Molly had an appreciation for the female form. She knew it was best not to mention Irene though given how upset she had been when Sherlock recognized her in the morgue. It was better for her to not tug on that thread especially since she was now a Holmes' wife. She was glad that Molly was more or less happy with the man who had asked her to marry him after she had nearly died.

"Bad night?" She smiled as she poured her a drink.

"Getting better, strangely enough. I'm surprised he let you go."

"He's working." Molly chuckled. "I had given him my piece and then I was whisked away while he was raving. I'm sure he'll be looking for me soon. It is late. He does try to come home at some point no matter where he is a case."

"He brings it with him though doesn't he?"

"Of course. We all do in some way." She mused as she took a bite out of the angel hair parmesan that they had a large bowl of to share.

"I think I can leave it here for the night. I'm ready to crawl into bed and then have a wonderful morning before popping over to see everyone else."

Molly said nothing but seemed to catch on when Mycroft appeared looking very out of sorts but with a much more noticeable pep in his step as he eyed Anthea with vigor that hadn't been placed when he came to grab her from Baker Street while John was do his best to understand Sherlock's excited tangent about the serial killer who had struck again tonight.

"Have a good _morning_ then. Happy Christmas to you both. I'll see you later." She normally would have embraced her brother-in-law in a small way but she didn't think she could bear it tonight. He looked alive with energy and she didn't want to disrupt the flow. She knew what that was like.

He looked grateful but gave her a smile before she headed off.

Mycroft took the newly vacant place in front of her.

"All done?" She asked.

He nodded. "Ready to go, Alice?"

She didn't really have to answer but extended her hand for him to take as he rose once again and they walked out together. She was barefoot but tonight neither of them were much for caring as they climbed into the back of the car and Anthea closed her eyes almost immediately.

When it had reached past seven AM Mycroft leaned over to his partner and tucked his face carefully as to not to be too intrusive over her shoulder. He pressed a soft yet urgent kiss on her neck. He heard her smile before she opened one of her eyes. "Morning already?" She mused.

He didn't give her a vocal answer instead reaching for her. She laughed.

She imagined he did very little sleeping. He never did when he was like this. He was a rather patient man though this morning he was rather eager.

This was perfect, she was eager to finally have him. He had her too she supposed.

"Happy Christmas, Myc." She replied as they laid there two hours later in a satisfied glow of tangled limbs. His head was tucked at her ribs with an arm slung over her waist. He moved up her body, and reached to tuck a lock of loose hair behind her ear.

"Yes, I think it is." He paused as if he realized something. "That wasn't your gift, mind you dear."

"Yours then?" She questioned.

"I accept. You've been quite busy."

She hummed. "Where are we on time?"

Mycroft clicked his tongue but reached over to the bedside for his watch that she had placed it there out of habit when they arrived the night before. "We have enough time for a quick shower before heading over to the cottage."

"Perfect, let's go."

Mycroft resisted the urge to roll his eyes but followed his lover into the ensuite with renewed vigor.


End file.
